


this fox-coloured desolate field

by capriicious



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, BAMF Haruno Sakura, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fuinjutsu is Not Nice, Gen, Haruno Sakura-centric, Manipulative Relationship, Mild Gore, Orochimaru Being an Asshole (Naruto), Power Imbalance, google: what 2 do when creepy snake man is now interested in me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:01:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26266903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capriicious/pseuds/capriicious
Summary: orochimaru is a scientist; he puts a seal on sasuke to tempt him with power, he puts a seal on naruto to curb his access to the kyuubi and... then he places a seal on their civilian teammate. the thirst for knowledge goes hand in hand with cannon fodder and orochimaru needs his hypothesis' answered, no matter that his seal seemed to have sent the girl back in time.(or: sakura is sent back in time with a target on her back, her teacher is now a freshly traumatised teenager, her teammates are babbling babies, and a very much still konoha-affiliated orochimaru is breathing down her neck with ill-regarded interest.)
Comments: 45
Kudos: 153





	1. i. daytime withering moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Millarca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Millarca/gifts).



> An AU where Orochimaru doesn't stop with placing seals on Naruto and Sasuke but puts one on Sakura as well. Sakura has no idea what's happening but she's not going to stop for anyone except for the extreme exhaustion. 
> 
> // warnings for: gore, blood, very brief descriptions about a corpse.

Sakura is many things but kind-hearted is not one of them. 

Civilians are the cannon fodder of the cannon fodder - stronger than the rest of their kin but still awkward new-born lambs walking on clumsy legs among stronger, faster and harsher predators. Sakura stumbled through the Academy with some long-forgotten intention - a dream that a kunoichi has instilled in her that she had lost in her time sequestered behind the Hashirama trees, hiding from mean children and her own cowardness. Dust and dirt would find its way smeared up her calves and she would find herself pressing her fingers into the fat of her leg and wishing she could mould it -

_Be better, faster, smarter._

Her time with trees became a familiar routine in the Academy, unambitious dreams fluttering to the front of her mind as she pressed chubby palms to her forehead and thought ‘ _I hate this’_ in a neverending cycle of self-hatred and anger and despair. 

In her desperation, the years of familiar dusty eucalyptus green trees remind her vividly of shrieking children with their loud laughter, the dust on the seats of the Academy and - the back-side view of Sasuke’s head. His hair always turns into a dark chestnut brown in the sun, the warmth in the classroom seeping into her skin and - the trees are to her advantage. Diligent as a child and efficient in her lack of pride, Sakura clawed into any information she could find. Hashirama trees are always one to help the shinobi of Konoha, no matter how outdated and superficial the old wive’s tale is. 

The Suna-nin gutturally jerks to the side. His hair burns red into her retinas, his skin crumbles and he awkwardly stumbles after them.

The tree shivers violently and she lugs Sasuke’s unconscious body away from the corrosive, burning, gritty chakra of - something. The boy in behind her was quite literally, crumbling and turning into - sand. Or a monster. Sakura’s met many monsters in the past day and she can wrangle another beast under her belt. 

Sasuke breathes shallowly on her back and she grits her teeth at the light-hearted flutter in her chest - panic, love, a distraction. There’s a time and a place to being in love, or romantic and pining and none of it is now. 

\- In the Academy, Sakura had studied as many publicly released journals of the Nidiame she could put her grubby hands on. His paperwork, his journal, his textbooks, his essays on systems, on chakra, the way Yin and Yang chakra can interact with each other - she scoured the library for them and then trailed after her teachers with a coy embarrassment that made them fond and easy on her. She hoarded his work for months on end, inspecting his neatly printed penmanship. There was an order to each thought, a fully-fleshed thought already displaying his intellect and Sakura - wanted. 

A man born cold, as written by many historians, makes a textbook shinobi. And Sakura took his words and held onto it with the grip of a young child scorned by her classmates. Sakura isn’t kind-hearted so she clings onto Sasuke who is alone and then - Naruto who is alone and Kakashi-sensei and forces them to look at her and forces them to interact with her and she - she can’t leave them alone. Sakura isn’t a quarter the man Senju Tobirama was but she took his words and his censored research and she ate and ate his words until she wasn't hungering for knowledge.

.

.

.

Sasuke acts with the social grace of a boy who punches poles and murmurs in conversations. It’s... horrible. His social ability is more nothing rather than limited. He’s blunt to a fault, doesn’t care about emotions or feelings and is intensely focused on whatever mission he assigns himself. When he slips off her shoulder as she runs through the streets, she pulls him straight and she wonders if he will hiss and howl and glare and scratch and shout on about not being weak when he wakes up. 

Sakura is not kind enough to let Sasuke have his pride. He can deal with it after they get away and find Kakashi-sensei and _are safe._

There’s a comfort in being in their home ground - the advantage is vast and Sakura can tuck Naruto and Sasuke behind her when a Sound nin staggers past because she knows where she is. The strange Sand-nin had left, sand trailing after their clothes like he was hesitantly reaching out with his hand - before he locked eyes on another Sand shinobi. Naruto fumbles for a moment, tripping over the hand of a man, his head stuck facing to the left even as they run. Sakura tries to catch what he sees - the Sandaime inside an almost transparent dome and - Orochimaru’s own chakra. The Sandaime’s chakra is large and overpowering, even with Sakura’s casual, unfocused sensor skills - she can feel his presence just as she can feel Orochimaru’s. The Sandiame's chakra is overbearing and Sakura staggers after Naruto.

He's yelling, words blending into the sound of live steel and screams and laughter - the insanity around them. Sakura feels... something at her pelvis the closer Naruto gets to the dome. He's screaming now, words high-pitched and panicked and Sakura doesn't have the skill to catch up _with_ Sasuke on her back. Orochimaru's chakra is burning, feeling like a paper-thin snakeskin over her body. There's a violent pulse of his chakra.

Sakura chokes, her heart strangling her lungs as she trips and skids, her hold on Sasuke loosening. Chakra tugs from the root of her body and - the world is orange. It’s a caustic colour, disgustingly bright and mordant. It takes up her vision, it takes up the sky - there’s so much orange. She hasn’t seen so much orange in anything else other than Naruto and she shuffles herself around. Konoha is on fire and the air is _burning_ with wild, wild anger and hatred and it slips down her throat easily, the glands of her throat swallowing the hot air. Her throat closes up, the air burns pungent, warmer than it should be and the sky is dark and the fire blisters. She looks around - and. Sakura’s surrounded by fire and she can’t see anything - it’s dark and it was just day. She’s covered in grit and blood and her qipao’s skirt is torn. She can’t feel the Sandaime anymore nor Sasuke on her back nor Orochimaru. 

Her pelvic bone and the base of her spine ache with resounding pain. Her eyes are gritty and her hands are suddenly covered in ash as Konoha burns.

She… 

Sakura looks at the fire and she can’t feel the Sandaime's chakra anymore. 

Where... 

Her hand catches on the jutting thick plank of a destroyed house. It tugs at her skin, the splintered ends of wood easily pulling at her skin and she drops it after too long - she’s distracted and she can’t feel anyone. She can’t find Sasuke. It shifts underneath her touch and Sakura trips over her feet again. A dead woman lies half crumpled with the plank in her head. Her hand has moved it enough that gravity pulls it down slowly; a sick, wet sound quietly pulling the woman’s head apart.

Embers float up gently, shining warmly before dying out. The woman is near her and Sakura looks at her face long and hard, takes in the thick, matted lashes that brush her dirtied face in blood and turns on her heel. 

_Later --_ Sakura thinks, small and tinny and she can smell the copper scent of it as her hands brush the perforated metal graft of a shop. _I can’t -- later._

Her lips are chapped in the mere minutes she’s woken up and the thought of Sakura being unconscious during an invasion is becoming more and more horrifying as she continues to stumble away from the dead woman and her split skull. Orochimaru put a seal on Sasuke - and he was unconscious before Sakura -- lost time. The sky was dark and that’s more than enough time to take Sasuke away. It was midday before and that gives Orochimaru at least ten hours ahead of her. Or her team. 

Sasuke is sealed, maybe even Naruto as well from how Kakashi-sensei watched, attentive in a way all too unfamiliar and sharp. The invasion is all too dangerous for her teammates who’ve attracted the attention of Orochimaru.

She remembers the way Orochimaru’s gaze briefly flitted towards her after he demolished her team and she _hates_ him. 

Sakura pushes past a burning house, the rubble trembling as a roar reverberates across Konoha and she chokes on the air, slapping a hand over her mouth to valiantly filter the dirt, smoke, and fire. Sound shatters concrete and she barely has time to coat her hands in chakra and jam them in her ears when the pavement splits in half. Sakura stares at the towering fucking fox burning Konoha to the ground and -- it’s nine tails flick. 

_What…?_ She stares in horror. 

\- _‘Sakura,_ ’ Iruka-sensei had written on her first report. ‘ _Is a diligent and hardworking student. She has an eye for details and I am more than certain that once she comes out of her studious shell, she will present her talents and skills’._

Sakura spent the majority of her time at the Academy studying. Senju Tobirama wrote a rough draft for an essay on the morality of beasts and bijuu. He had carefully written, in his rigid and orderly penmanship that; ‘ _Bijuu, from my limited understanding and research, are beasts constructed from chakra. Unlike animals and humans, they are chakra and thus - have the ability and sentience to enact violence.’_

The fox shifts on its feet - growling loud enough to shake her body and Sakura feels horror and panic and dread - the _Kyuubi_ turns, its tails knocking over a tower. It opens its mouth and Sakura can’t bring herself to move, to protect herself because that disgustingly astringent and burning orange is exactly like Naruto’s jacket. It’s all wrong - Naruto isn’t a _monster,_ he’s an annoying teammate who’s loud and terribly lonely and -

It roars and Sakura feels something warm drip down her face and it collects in her ears. Her ears ring and the air shakes underneath the weight of a _demon_ and a _bijuu_ who was meant to have been _killed by the Yondaime._ Her vision blurs and her pelvis burns, the closer she gets to the writhing mass of ozone and hate and - her skin puckers, quickly turning pink as chakra burns through fine layers of skin and starts to work through her flesh. Her eyes can’t stop looking at the goddamn fox, the boogeyman of Konoha and -

It’s orange. 

_I’m going to die,_ she realises as her skin curls in, the scent of blood drifting away in curling smoke. _I’m going to die-_

The air is hot, not just from fire and smoke but from hatred. Intense and vast killing intent. The Kyuubi is standing above Konoha, miles above and the world feels too large for Sakura. 

A hand latches onto her shoulder and she’s pulled back.

.

.

.

Sakura is terrified, the fox at her back in the middle of the village and she can almost feel its breath on her neck. The man in front of her watches her warily and Sakura holds her kunai closer to the flat of her wrist. Hidden from sight, but a silent threat. The metal is cold but in the heat of the Kyuubi’s chakra, it’s chilling. She’s not stupid, the Chuunin Exams were over but enemy shinobi were everywhere in Konoha - they had spilt into their Village, filling each corner with a fight. Sakura chances a glance at the Kyuubi and her legs shake violently, as it shakes its head and destroys another area of the village with enough anger that the earth once more, shakes and cracks apart.

She licks her chapped lips and the taste of watery copper fills her mouth.

The man in front of her is looking at her in stilted-horror. The kind of expression that a veteran has when they're truly emotional but can't break the mould of their shell. Trauma and fear keep them sane and safe. Sakura shifts on her foot. Sakura - Sakura has never seen this man before, even with his Konoha flak jacket and hitai-ate. He looks like a man that doesn’t usually crack under pressure nor show such blatant emotion on his face. A veteran shinobi reeking of gentry and Clans is... an air of nobility that the Hyuuga usually reek. 

Except his hair is something darker than the usual tan browns of the Hyuuga Clan and his eyes remind her of Sasuke. Sakura swallows at the thought of Sasuke. 

They both flinch when it howls. 

He steps forward, certain and firm and Sakura watches him closely.

“Genin,” he says carefully, looking far more uncomfortable with his careful words than the _bijuu behind them_. “Where…”

He looks lost and Sakura blinks, trying to form his question into something legible. He steps forward again and he grabs her forearm, fingers touching against the blade of her kunai. He drags her back and Sakura feels a new terror swallow her rib, her heart thuds quickly and her arms are too weak. She tugs at his grip and he doesn’t let go. 

They’re walking far quicker than Sakura’s legs can reach, almost running to keep up with the fast pace of this man who’s dragging her around Konoha.

The turn left and he holds her still. Sakura vaguely recognises the area - a shop for shinobi that deals with uniforms and general necessities. It’s an area foreign ninja wouldn’t know about but her suspicions still don’t abate. 

Her eye catches onto an uchiwa fan stitched into the shoulder of his flak. 

“Genin,” he says again and he presses forward, stern authority lining his voice with natural ease. Definitely a Clan shinobi. _“Where is your team._ The Yondaime specifically sent out the genin hours ago so you would be safe - are you trying to get _killed?"_

Sakura blinks the blurry orange lingering in her eyesight. He’s acting strangely for an invasion - not the usual identification question but a question about her team - about being a hero. That's Naruto's role and Sakura forces her instinctive laugh down. Something he said makes her confused but she can't focus as blood keeps steadily dripping down from her nose and her ears stay uncomfortably wet. She wipes her nose, but the blood keeps on falling so she stops. Swallows. Her tongue is heavy in her mouth, feeling thick from blood and saliva. 

“... identification?” 

He pauses and looks down at her. Sakura doesn’t know what the man sees when he looks at her, other than a scared young girl - hair too pink, too feminine to be competent and strong. No confidence under the stare of an older shinobi and barely able to keep herself from retching underneath the weight of the Kyuubi. Blood drips down her nose and she cups her chin to stop the slow drip.

She takes his pause as his own silent prompt for her _own_ identification and she dutifully rattles off her registration; “Haruno Sakura, 012601.”

She stares at him and waits. Blood follows the curve of her ear and slides down her jaw. _Does... he want a salute?_

He watches her silently, taking her in and Sakura holds her hands steady against her face, blood slowly drying as the heat of the air pulsates - live, filled with toxicity and hatred. She swallows, her tongue densely weighted in her throat. He looks at her and then back at the Kyuubi. His face tightens and shifts into cold determination. His face is the picture-perfect representation of a shinobi she had seen when she was younger - his face stiff, body ready to move, an aura like her teacher and she stumbles underneath the sudden shift in silent but at ease to - to this.

“004086.” He looks at her again, studying her face. He scowls and Sakura looks up at him and sees _Sasuke_ so vividly she can’t breathe. “... there’s a shelter nearby. Go and help my nephew guarding the door. Find _your_ team. Stay away from the Kyuubi.”

He leaves as abruptly as he appeared and Sakura turns around, running to find the shelter. Duty and obedience compel her forward. Sakura runs across the cracked streets. Silence follows her breaths and she swallows the blood on her tongue, desperately wishing that her teammates were with her - that she knew what had happened, why she passed out, why the _Kyuubi_ is still alive. Her superior told her to go to the shelter and Sakura is an obedient cannon fodder unlike her rash and out-spoken teammates. Civilian bred shinobi are always the ones lingering behind their Clan counterparts. Sakura can't ignore a command from a Leaf veteran. 

Sakura stumbles towards the half-hidden door (far less dusty than it used to be) haphazardly guessing the code.

It's promptly opened and Sakura's close to fainting - she can feel her chakra simmer in her stomach. She's used up more than she's ever done in the past with her and Naruto retrieving Sasuke and the invasion hadn't helped. She's halfway to passing out when a pair of familiar dark, dark eyes peers into her own. Sasuke's face is closer to hers than its ever been and she tackles him the best she can without falling unconscious the minute she steps forward. 

She holds onto his sleeve and melts into his shoulder, his curly hair tickling her neck. 

.

.

.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :( i know, i know. you're wondering... 'capriicious, this is a new story! what about dandelions? have you abandoned it?' and all I have to say is... millarca inspired me, woke me up from my drag into being unmotivated for another year but that motivation has found itself in the form of this plot bunny - that's been hounding me for the past 2 years. (read their stories now if you haven't there so funny and good and gorgeous I love the plots and the characterisations i want to live in their mind ). the bunny has grown into a giant hare and it's terrifying :( I have no will to fight this off anymore. all in all, this is partly a new story - I doubt I will work on as intently as dandelions but also...
> 
> i jus thot it would be cool ( *;;; u *;;) ... (if you haven't noticed i am not the best at planning stories. i kinda... hope its an ok story and then write it. so sakura back in time is jus.... not gonna have a good time uuuu)
> 
> i had to add my own time-travel fic. like c'mon. it's mandatory to have a time-travel story under your belt nowadays. also the storyline? no idea. i just threw her back in time because I could. what's the plot? no idea. she's just having a horrible time and that's about it hbbvndhsa. what's next? next up is my mandatory mokuton!sakura story. or even my mandatory missing-nin! sakura - or, or, mandatory scary!sakura. ... mandatory war-is-still-ongoing!sakura? god, I'm just gonna dump all of my story ideas on this account. i have upheld a perfectionist attitude to my stories and - no more! we don't need a completed story before i move on, we just write! i am now feeding all of my starving readers, c' mere lemme stuff these stories down ur throat, my little baby readers.
> 
> (millarca, hey psst, psst. this is what you inspired me for. i just wrote it because i saw your comment and went wild. i think i did some laps in my room which is impressive as you can't... do laps in my room. also, this is my love letter to all of your sakura's and in general, your stories. also, i figured out the gift function - that's pretty cool isn't it? i think i did it right i hope i did i barely know how to use this. also i... write so many paragraphs have fun wading through the lines of words, pal. sorry, i am... blathering on a lot. also i took sakura reading senju tobirama from your story and ran with it - like full-on sprinting. i hope that's ok i thought it would b funny if the nidiame was her role model.)
> 
> anyway i hope you enjoyed! 2020... has sucked, a lot but i think I'm actually somewhat able to write stories because I've given up on school. who needs to know about matrices when you can have... fanfics? anyway hope u have a good day!!!! this chapter has been very briefly edited but please tell me if they are any mistakes. i.. am no longer taking a really serious attitude to writing stories so I'm jus winging it now lol! if my writing is bad its bad! like who cares, this is for your and my own enjoyment! I aim to write relatively well but I'm no genius so like. average is what u get. i... am slightly insecure abt the quality but who cares??!! me but not anymore!!! this is thrown 2 the wind i don't know who this kid is!!
> 
> (i.... I'm sorry i talk a lot)


	2. ii. daylight withering moon

Sakura finds herself lying on a stiff, cold concrete floor, her hand stiffly holding onto the fabric of a boy. Her eyes are just as gritty as before, and she stares at the dust-covered ceiling before slowly turning her attention to the boy. His eyes are curious, half-lidded in a way that pricks her conscious in slow-rising panic. This strange, curly-haired boy watches over her, sitting closer than an unknown shinobi should and Sakura had the startling realisation that this - this dark-haired, dark-eyed boy was  _ not Sasuke.  _

His eyelashes are far longer than Sasuke’s and his face far less androgynous. Hints of a strong jaw, a slight broad nose. He was most definitely not Sasuke who she thought she had seen before passing out and. And he also looks like a child. 

He blinks, slow and languid. It’s uncomfortably like a feline predator that her team had found in the Forest of Death, lazily licking its massive paw with a delicate touch that didn’t suit its bloodied maw or the crushed body, half-hidden underneath its hefty body. His expression is even worse once Sakura realises that he’s - small. The size of a third-year Academy student at best, a really, really tall six-year-old at worst. It’s a horrible reminder of Sasuke when he sat alone in the classroom, quiet whispers and rumours and Sakura leaning over to Ino asking tentatively what happened. Foolish, foolish Sakura - doesn’t know anything even as people stared at Sasuke and trailed after him like the dead reaching for life.

“Your hair is pink.” It’s not a question but an eager, gleeful observation.

Sakura licks her chapped lips, blood crusted over the front of her face. She cups a hand to her ears and a line of flaking blood falls into her palm. His small hand creeps onto her wrist and tugs it down, more of her blood peeling off in fat, thick dried blood clots. He drops her wrist and touches a choppy bang with gentle, small, small fingers. 

_ “Pink,”  _ he says again in awe. “Who are you? You have pink hair. It’s naturally pink - were you born like this?”

“-- I…” Sakura blinks again, feeling widely out of her depths with this strange Academy student and his hands on her hair. She squints, looking at his face that’s far closer than she’s comfortable with.

Sakura hasn’t seen someone with this colour of hair, this thickness and wildness since she looked at one of the many paintings of Uchiha Madara. Maybe one of her aged memories of brief glimpses at people with it but. Wild, curly hair and it’s unbelievably confusing. And she doesn’t know why she’s on the floor - in a dusty shelter with a kid nearly in her lap, tucked away in a corner. The boy doesn’t seem to mind her not answering him, just lightly tugging at the end of her hair. 

“Who... no wait,” she grabs his hand and he watches with gleaming eyes, glee not dying even after staring at her for gods how long and it reminds her of Naruto’s hellion kids. It’s the worst comparison to make and if this kid is like this - he has to know the Hokage’s tenacious brat of a grandson. “Who are  _ you?” _

He cocks an eyebrow, face drawn into a hyper-exaggerated expression of hurt. 

It’s ridiculous, the face of a child most likely still in the Academy and - it’s somehow harder to look at him than to remember the expression of Orochimaru. The man had torn apart his disguise as a kunoichi with ease, hunted them down. Naruto had been dragged away by some giant snake and Sasuke had his neck - Sakura was alone in the forest, jeering Sound nin trying to take Sasuke away, trying to hurt her team. He’s a mix of some Sasuke-look alike and a child and Sakura thinks of Sasuke - alone, training like he’s out of time, fighting like he has no time- and promptly bursts into tears. It’s messy, her eyes hurt as she clenches her eyes closed, briefly catching the shocked face of the boy as she crumples into herself. 

And yet… thinking of those snake-like features is something easy, remembering the fear that held her body still as he stalked them. It’s - easy to think of a Sannin rather than some young Academy kid that reminds her of  _ Sasuke.  _

Sakura buries her face into the crook of her elbow, trying valiantly to cover the wet gasps in between each sob with the skill of a previously bullied child. Her eyelashes are wet, brushing the top of her cheekbone and everything feels -  _ too much.  _ The milky paleness of her skin is dyed a rusty red and charcoal grey; light pink burns curl up her arm from the crackling air outside, small, waving rivets from where her skin had peeled and burned under the oppressive heat of the fox. Her hair is too short - Sasuke is  _ gone,  _ she can’t feel Naruto’s burning chakra either and Kakashi-sensei’s chakra is smaller than it was before. It’s nearly gone - quivering, unrestrained,  _ scared _ and it only speaks to Sakura of danger-danger-danger. 

Who made Kakashi-sensei so  _ scared -?  _

He’s. He’s her teacher, he can’t be scared. He’s never scared - he’s mocking and rude and facetious and he. He feels so  _ small.  _ HIs chakra is barely a third of its usual size, buzzing with the electricity that Sakura had found out to be his nature but-

The Kyuubi was outside the shelter and that man had run off to… somewhere and Sakura doesn’t know if the village is dead or if it’s dead - the Kyuubi was  _ killed _ . They’d learned it in the Academy in the lessons dedicated to reigns of their Kage - the Yondaime had  _ killed it.  _

His hand creeps up her forearm, lifting the tips of her dirt-filled nails just as gently as before. It strikes her as aberrant from how he would typically act, something in those curls and that playful expression striking her as his normal attitude. Blunt exuberance rather than this kindness to a girl, some years his senior. 

She chokes on another sob, high-adrenaline rushing through her body as she’s caught up in the kindness of some kid and the fact that the demon is  _ alive  _ and that she can’t find her team.

“I don’t know what’s - I don't know what's going on,” she admits pitifully, words thick in her mouth. It feels awful to say, that she’s unsure. Sakura isn’t unsure of herself - she’s the top of her class, she’s in a team with Uchiha Sasuke and Naruto and her glib teacher. Sakura is outgoing - Sakura is  _ smart  _ and she doesn’t know what’s - “I don’t understand, why is the Kyuubi-? I thought it was  _ dead _ .”

The boy hums in agreement, sitting close enough that their legs touch. A silent and delicate comfort Sakura didn't know that children had in them.

“The Yondiame-” she chokes on another sob, fear taking over the confidence she had. “I thought the Yondiame-? I don’t get it, what’s going on - the Kyuubi-?”

She clings to her burnt arm and watches as her tears wet the dusty floor.

A man sighs, drops down next to them, breaking through her panicked, badly-muffled sobs and nasally-pitched hysteria. There’s a brief lull in the air, the tense atmosphere softening as he sits her up and places a gentle hand onto her red arms. She shivers under the cool temperature of his hands, a minty-green chakra flickering to life and then being applied to her arm. The skin of her forearms creeps back in, growing slowly underneath his palm until he stops, slouches the tiniest and lets go of her arm. 

Her arms are pristine, only rusted blood, dirt and ash caked all over her.

She sniffs primly, trying to remember Suzume-sensei’s strait-laced attitude about kunoichi. The back of her hands cleans off the grime on her face, tears and all before she finally takes note of the man helping her and the boy. 

_Truly_ , take in the two.

“Thank you,” she says, blunt and easy before focusing her attention on the boy whose been touching her hair for the majority of the time she’s been conscious. She flicks out a clump of dirt from underneath her fingernails before mustering her courage to prattle on to this strange child. “And...my hair is pink because that’s what was genetically determined for me at birth. I was born with pink hair.”

He stares at her blankly, as if she’s explained it too much, went into too much detail. But Sakura’s spent a majority of her time in the Academy with leering classmates pulling at her hair until loose locks showed her forehead. Back then she used to think that children were the horrors of the world. In her mind, they were as awful as Iwa-nin. Children don't hurt to look at anymore, not after graduating from the Academy. The horrors of the world aren't comparable to a child's cruelness.

Sakura glances over at the man and he makes a long-suffering expression when she raises an eyebrow, channelling the pitiful manners of her teacher and Ino’s unimpressed, social-wrangling skills into this conversation. 

“You…” he sighs, glancing up at the decrepit ceiling like it’ll hold the answers to ignore her unasked question, her sudden demure manner that screams of kunoichi training to any Konoha-nin. His hair is somewhat similar to the boy’s now that she can make his appearance in without tears blurring her sight. 

Sakura takes pity on the man - he has a similar disposition to Kakashi-sensei, which is if you don't ask then he won’t answer. 

“Can I know your name?” he stares at her with an air of pure suffering, from a simple question, that rivals Sasuke. “My name is Haruno Sakura. I’m a genin from Team 7.”

His eye twitches at her team designation and Sakura sinks - it’s not her fault that her team are… loud and blunt. His face clears just as quickly, a clean slate that Sakura knows would have her usually intimidated except for the fact that he healed her. His demeanour, his actions, the way he acts - it reeks of that pride she felt in the man who saved her as well. She feels it in her bones that Kakashi-sensei is going to despise this man as soon as he hears of him - she  _ has  _ to bring him to her team.

“I am Shinjiro of the Uchiha Clan,” he looks down his nose at her, ignoring the shuffling boy next to him. “And he is Uchiha Shisui.”

.

.

.

Shisui is exactly as she pin-pointed his character in her exhaustion-induced mental collapse. Past her fear, the jittery courage and confidence which pushed her forward, past the fatigue, past the Kyuubi and Orochimaru and the invasion - Sakura drowns in disturbed shock. It’s a cruel joke to play on her, even more so Sasuke, by claiming he’s an Uchiha. Shinjiro introduced himself like the Hyuuga do, like how Hinata does whenever they have an assessment. That pride in their Clan. But. It’s a pile of queer occurrences, the man with the uchiwa stitched into his flak, Shinjiro claiming he and Shisui are Uchiha. If Sasuke -  _ when  _ Sasuke hears about this he’ll be incensed at the disrespect they’re showing to his clan. These people claiming that they’re Uchiha - even though the  _ Uchiha  _ are  _ dead.  _

The Uchiha were slaughtered by Uchiha Itachi; the Downfall of the Uchiha lingering in her mind every time she messes up with Sasuke and now. Now, these people are claiming they’re Uchiha. When Sasuke’s the only one and - why -? _Why_ _ are they claiming they’re Uchiha now? _

Shisui’s grip hasn’t left her hand since the shelters were opened, the dull ringing of the alarm pushing everyone out of the shelter in a wave. Sakura had stood there, dazed before he grabbed her hand and Sakura doesn’t  _ understand what’s going on.  _

The equilibrity she had before they left is gone. 

She was ripped from her momentary calm when the two introduced themselves, Shinjiro’s noble attitude somewhat explainable except for the fact that  _ the Uchiha are dead. _

Sakura closes her eyes, shadows passing over them, the tips of the sun burning away the dark, prussian-blue and black night sky. Red had burned the night before and now the sun dies the sky a deep scarlet shade - it melts the fear of the last night and yet. The streets of Konoha are destroyed. Every step they take is over a broken house, a broken road and the piles of ash. Sakura used to think that Konoha would burn with the Will of Fire when they faced adversary and yet - she didn’t think she meant it literally. 

She doesn’t entirely know why Shisui is taking her with him. 

“Shisui-kun -- I… where are we going?” Sakura wants to shake his small shoulders, tell him sternly the magnitude of lording a dead Clan’s name around but stops, only tightening her grip on his hand.  _ Later,  _ she thinks just as blankly when she saw that woman’s head falling apart. _Later when its all over, when I find Sasuke and make this kid realise he can't-_

Shisui tugs her forward and Sakura trains her eye on him. 

“To my uncle,” he calls back as they skip over a fallen pole. 

He’s young but he’s well trained - the gait of a Clan-born child, so, at least some truth to being apart of a Clan. Fluid steps as he avoids the jutting ends of wood, the subtle hidden rocks and… Sakura squeezes his hand. Callouses line his palm, thick and hardened - either a hard worker or he’s actually younger genin rather than an Academy student. Callouses only come from experience and time spent training can’t compare to the wild energy of a battlefield. 

Sakura sighs shakily and knows he noticed it, his eyes are sharp and intelligent and while the Academy doesn’t encourage mass killing among classes because they aren’t Kiri - they do encourage knowledge. Knowing everything you can. 

Or at least, Iruka-sensei encouraged her wild, bloody scrabble for knowledge, more than a little soft on her civilian background.

She looks back up at the sky - the red has drained from the rising sun and a pale, dusty blue starts to stretch over the sky. It washes away the sight of the caustic orange, the lingering signs of the anger and hatred it spilt. Messy, orange, neon. And now its blue and sight of it makes her eyes sting as she thinks of her idiot teammate, his wide blue eyes and his loud nature. She misses him.

“You know, you kinda remind me of this cat I saw in the trash once. It had the strangest eyes I’ve ever seen,” Shisui starts, tone exactly like he’s got a smug grin on his face and Sakura stares at the back of his head in instinctive wariness. “It sliced my arm up real bad but Mikoto-baa wanted me to take it in. So I did. And you have pink hair. So…”

Sakura stares. 

It's the worst argument she’s ever heard defending his actions - or even explaining what they're doing running through the streets of Konoha. But its enough to shake her from the distant fuzz she’s been drowning in as they stumble around the ruins of Konoha’s districts, avenues after avenues filled with ash and rubble and corpses. She latches onto the distraction with fervour - something to focus on, to ignore the Kyuubi, her missing teammates, this strange mystery around the faux-Uchiha, the disappearance of Sound-nin and Sand-nin and the lack of invasion damage she knows was just there-

Shisui glances back with glistening dark eyes, mouth curving into a pleased smile.

“You’re like, a child. Aren’t you 5? Are you trying to say that you’re adopting me?” Sakura tries to not let herself be incredulous. It fails. She pivots Shisui around and holds him up from their tangled hands. “I’m  _ 13\.  _ You can’t adopt me - I already have a family. What type of weird connection made you think that--”

“But Mikoto-baa really likes weird people!” he shoots back, looking weirdly comfortable hanging from his hand.  _ Strong upper body strength  _ she notes and then shakes him as he tries to convince her he’s right. “And I know now that you’re strong because you’re holding me up without buckling. So, yeah.”

A beat. 

“And that’s it?!” 

“Your hair is  _ pink,”  _ he argues  _ again _ , like his argument holds the merit and wisdom of a Kage. It's like she's talking to Naruto and she groans at his expression. Definitely like Naruto. “Mikoto-baa is going to love you. I mean, unless you’re a real daft genin. Are you?”

“I- I am not daft!”

A shadow falls over them and a hand lands on top of her own, tight but not threatening. A brief warning as Sakura drops Shisui. She looks over and the same man that had directed her to the shelter looms over her. His face has settled into a blank mask, the bare emotion he had displayed yesterday long gone under the reach of the sun.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t incapacitate Shisui no matter how much he deserves it,” the man says blandly, pointedly ignoring Shisui’s god-forsaken smile. He pauses, taking in her form in the daylight and Sakura winces. The light doesn't conceal her wrecked state and she watches him close his eyes for a brief moment, collecting his wits or something of the sorts. “I see you met my nephew. Let's go then.”

Sakura looks at the man in bewilderment. 

.

.

.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ughdssa sakura issokay :,,,) u can do this. also check this out we have all the by uchiha's messing around with her. adorable. shisui's gonna b a menace i can tell. also man writing sakura so she doesn't accidentally spit out future knowledge straight up is.... so hard. like i had to make her cry so she wouldn't jus be like, found out. i mean, hhgf??? thrilling occurrences for sakura in this chapter. also i... it's taking me so long to get the guys name to sakura i am so sorry i didn't really expect it to be like 3 chapters until u get his name. i mean, its kind of obvious. also bby!shisui!!
> 
> back in the swing of writing! its definitely more fun than i remember :,,) 
> 
> so, i don't know any random minor uchiha characters so shinjiro is now here! who is he? a suffering man, typical uchiha pride, weak to kids, does healing because he suffered an injury during the third shinobi war. also hello, this story is rather slow now that i think abt it so sorry, sakura has not yet realised what is going on and is a mix of angry and confused and scared. love that, very fresh.


	3. iii. daylight withering moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A realisation well unwanted.

Sakura stares up at the man, not entirely knowing what to do as he looks at her with expectant eyes. She waits for him to expand on his sentence. But he merely stares and turns on his heel. Sakura stares at his back as he strides away and feels - lost. 

_Was she meant to follow?_

Shisui turns his head and waves his hand and Sakura - with no one she knows, unable to find her teammates and her sensei’s chakra muffled - not even _trained_ in tracking - follows after them. She trails after them, feeling like the children in Wave who wandered after her. The parallels might mean something - maybe in a report, maybe as a coincidence but Sakura doesn’t know what’s happening and - 

“Uncle,” Shisui whines, circling around the man carefully. He trips and the man’s hand shoots out and grabs his arm. “Uncle -! Have you even introduced yourself to Sakura?”

Sakura watches them carefully. Faux-Uchiha or not, this man is most definitely skilled. A jounin - at least. She cannot leave her guard down around these, gallivanting, idiots. The man is leading them to the Hokage Tower. He’ll be caught as soon as they’re out in the open. 

“Hn.” The man grunts and Shisui laughs. 

“Introduce yourself,” he says again, a dare and a bet all wrapped up in his teasing tone. 

The man turns to her, watching her walk after them with her dirtied face and carefully widened eyes. She wonders if this is something to be wary of and skitters a distance away from him. 

“Fugaku,” he offers like it means something. 

“Sakura,” she says carefully. “It’s nice to meet you Fugaku-san.”

He nods briefly and turns back around, solemnly walking his path to the Hokage’s Tower with a familiarity, that Sakura is begrudgingly realising, that intruders would not have. She kicks a piece of broken lumber sullenly, watching out of the corner of her eye as it bounces on the road. Konoha, is barren of the foreign-nin Sakura remembers seeing yesterday - or the day before. The air of Konoha is crisp in the dawn of day and yet - Sakura is missing something. 

It’s important and yet, she doesn’t know _what_ it is. 

They don’t say a word after their brief introduction and Sakura feels as if they’ve had a coded conversation without her knowing. Shisui seems the type of child to nudge them into something just to get a reaction - too much Naruto in that grin for her own sake of mind. They arrive near the foot of the Tower and they keep walking. Sakura spots a woman and they walk towards her. Sakura blinks again, crusted and dry and covered in ash and cranes her head up at the sky. Pale blue, just as before. Sakura’s missing something - but she doesn’t know _what._

She reaches over to Fugaku, a hand on his face and he relaxes minutely underneath her touch. They stare at each other and the intimacy - is so genuine, so real that Sakura looks away. This - at least for her intruders - was real enough. 

“Where’s Itachi?” she murmurs softly, as if Sakura won’t hear her. “I remember him trailing you in the office yesterday is he-?”

“He’s in the Tower,” Fugaku says. She turns to the Tower, then looks at him sternly. “He is fine. Itachi is skilful and can take care of himself with little nudging, Mikoto.” 

She frowns lightly. 

_An old disagreement?_

She sighs after a moment and turns to Shisui and Sakura. She walks closer to them and Sakura is left scrambling to pay attention after hearing Itachi - and instantly knowing they meant the _missing-nin._ He couldn’t be in the Tower but - maybe that’s who they are looking for? Sasuke’s brother. It’s not a pretty image that’s being in her mind. Why, would anyone want the Uchiha other than for their sharingan? 

_Orochimaru,_ Sakura thinks and remembers the cursed seal on Sasuke’s neck. Anger sputters to life in her stomach at the thought of this - this Snake Sannin waltzing in and trying to seduce Sasuke with _power._

_Ridiculous._

“Oh and who is this?” the woman smiles serenely, dragging her eyes over Sakura and Shisui.“Dragged another one in, Shisui?”

Her sentence implies a pattern but Sakura - 

Sakura stares at the woman. Her hair is sleek and despite the dirt clinging to her flak jacket, she too has an untouchable air. Dark, dark brown eyes look at her, dark, black hair with the slightest tint of blue, her hair tied back in an elegant bun. A dark rouge sling sits against her body, holding something that Sakura can’t see. Shisui’s grip on her torn skirt doesn’t let up, even as he tugs her towards the woman. Sakura feels an indescribable emotion as the woman takes her in. Her eyes linger on her pink hair and Sakura tries to ignore the choppy length of it, the dirt and sweat and body fluids making her hair crisp and dry. Her eyes soak up her expression and Sakura cringes. 

This must be Mikoto-baa then. 

“Hello Auntie,” Shisui says, smiling at her eagerly and exuding an aura of forced politeness. Sakura watched him warily. “This is Sakura. And she has… pink hair. It’s natural as well.”

He whispers this furiously towards Mikoto and Sakura looks up at the sky. _Children… are exhausting._ Somehow she knows he is doing this on purpose. _Ugh_ , she shakes her head as he peers back at her. She wiggles her fingers at him, a motion all too familiar in waving off too-curious children. 

“She does, doesn’t she.” And then Mikoto turns to her and Sakura slides to attention, arms folded behind her. “Hello, darling, what’s your name?”

“I- Haruno Sakura,” Sakura bows jaggedly towards the woman. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, um… Mikoto-san?” 

“Uchiha Mikoto.” She reaffirms pleasantly. 

They stand there and Sakura feels her soul shrivel up as the would-be Uchiha all stare at her. Maybe, she realises and watches ‘Mikoto’ carefully, they have realised who her teammate is. It’s not too hard to know who Team 7 is - their year level had all the clan heirs and Sakura was one of very few civilian-born to graduate. 

Mikoto smiles, her hands readjusting the sling easily and as Sakura begins to stutter a sentence out - nods kindly. 

“I- have you seen my teammates around here?” Sakura tries, probing them softly. An opening, a bait. “His name is -“ Sakura bites her tongue as she starts to say _Sasuke._ “He’s. Uchiha.”

She blinks slowly and tries to contain the embarrassment crawling up her frame. A frisson of fear is wedged into her ribcage, thudding and running rabbit-quick.

_What if?_ It says and Sakura can’t say a word against it. _What if they find out she knows? What if they kill her for ruining their operation? What if they force her to stay with them?_  
  


_What if-?_

Mikoto and Fugaku watch her carefully, and everything has been - careful, careful. Slow and steady as they lead her around the village. Observing her actions - watching as she makes mistakes but Sakura won’t break under pressure. Sakura doesn’t know why these people are so obviously gallivanting around as Uchiha - the Downfall of the Uchiha was, almost a decade ago. The extinction of their Clan has been publically known for just as long. They could be intruders - could be Orochimaru’s nin from Sound or it could be a test, a genjutsu and - 

_What if they-?_

Sakura presses her shaking hands to the curve of her back. _Stop it,_ she begs silently, _stop shaking, don’t do this now - please, please, please -!_

A hand presses onto her head, encouraging her to look up. Mikoto is much closer than before, bending at the knees and barely a foot away. She nods again, acknowledging her question and Sakura swallows her panic.

It doesn’t work and her palms are slick with sweat, these strange, strange pale beings are staring at her. Their eyes are like Sasuke’s, their hair like his. They’ve taken features of his own and formed them into their little personas and Sakura - 

“Sakura,” Mikoto says after a long, long moment of listening to Sakura’s ragged breathing. “Would you like to see something?”

She speaks slow, everything slow and careful with these imposters. She sounds - like she’s showing something special and she acts it. 

She shifts the fabric slung around her chest, to show a small baby begrudgingly blinking at the sudden light. Sakura feels a familiar tang of chakra ping against hers - and dread crawls up her throat. 

“This is Sasuke,” she says, smiling warmly at Sakura’s intense stare. She looks fond, a slim hand caressing his head. “He’s about 4 months now.”

... Sasuke? 

Sakura can’t hear a word Mikoto’s saying anymore as she stares at the mewling form of Uchiha Sasuke. His chubby face scrunches in as much distaste a baby can show, eyelashes long and dusting the top of his red, fleshy cheeks. Her fingers reach out, shaking violently as she brushes his forehead and the hair curling at his brow. He’s a familiar warmth and that familiarity is a premonition Sakura can’t - won’t understand. Heat curls in his body, a strange culmination of one of his chakra natures. Her hand cups his cheek, heavy and calloused. Alive. An adolescent turned baby, skin flushed and red with an abundance of life that seemed to have drained when she thinks back to his listless form on her back.

His chubby fingers curl into themselves.

She gently probes his small chakra coils with her own, feeling for that sharp tang of metal, the slightest crackle of ozone, the heat of his chakra, fire, the shift of something cunning, the undeniable feeling of _Sasuke_. 

Mikoto watches her with a steely gaze but doesn’t stop her - something that Sakura notes before she’s pulling back from Sasuke, her hand sliding away from his hot skin. Her palm tingles with his chakra; a growing sharpness, fire, and burning heat that is exactly like Sasuke’s. It burns her palm, like her arm burned from the crackle of the Kyuubi.

Sakura stares down at Sasuke and feels her heart running in her throat. Rabbit-quick and heavy it begs her to run away. She looks at the ground and it spirals mockingly, infinite, sickening waves pulling her in. 

Sasuke? 

“I -- I have to go. My teammates - I need to find them,” Sakura abruptly announces and she turns on her heel, her hands suddenly slick with sweat and nausea threatening to swallow up her stomach. 

“Sakura--” 

Shisui grabs on to her arm and jerks them to a stop. Somehow, Sakura knows if she looks at him his face will - do something. Make her angry, sad or terrified or just, be a reminder of something and Sakura doesn’t want a reminder.   
  


Sakura wants to _leave_. 

The attention of Shisui isn’t as innocent as she first thought it was. Uchiha Shisui - was he truly an Uchiha? Uchiha Mikoto. Uchiha Fugaku. Sakura remembers a warble of Sasuke as he mentions - Fugaku, chichi-ue, his mother, his anger and his - 

Sasuke cries out, high and loud. 

Mikoto shushes him gently, cupping his forehead and whispering to _Sasuke_ lovingly and Sakura - 

Sakura can’t do this. 

“My _team--”_ her voice shakes. “I have to find -- I need to _._ I have to find my team - their chakra--”

Sakura runs. She doesn’t look back at the Uchiha family clustered together in an array of neat, clandestine and noble air. Her fingers dig into her chest and she runs as fast as she can with their gaze burning into her back.

.

.

.

Sakura huddles in the corner of a familiar tree. She used to hide behind this when she was younger and hid from the bullies who pulled at her hair and clumsily shoved at her forehead. Sakura wishes she was a child - and she pulls her arms around her head and closes her eyes. It doesn’t make the dreadful turning of her stomach stop. The tree hides her in the shade, the warmth of the sun from the past unable to hit her skin. It’s _unbearable._

In the past - Sakura’s past, she would sit against the bark of the tree and imagine - think of flying, holding Ino’s hand and running away from the taunts of other children. Now she sits there and the tree is younger than before. Sakura pushes her hands against the dirt and it crumbles like it did when she was 5 and upset; 7 and upset; 10 and upset. And now -

Now, Sakura’s 13 and her world is gone. Might be gone. Her world has shifted and crumbled, mixing in with the dirt and going unnoticed by her. 

She pushes shaking hands into her eyes like it’ll stop all the worlds wrongness. 

The baby had Sasuke’s chakra. She could feel the unrefined coils that distinctly held his chakra. You can’t - you can’t _copy_ a human’s chakra. 

A sob breaks past her gritted teeth and she grinds her hands in further - the pressure of her hands fighting against the aching of her eyes. What - _what can she even do?_

The air clogs her lungs, thick and warm and horrible. Sakura’s looked at Sasuke’s family? At these strange Uchiha who were all _dead_ by the time she could really, really remember substantial memories - Sasuke is a baby and she doesn’t know where _Naruto_ is. Her teacher might be a teenager now - and she can understand why his chakra is so small, so scared - he’s younger now. 

Hatake Kakashi, Sakura has always known, was a student of the Yondaime but now-? The Yondaime’s _dead,_ her teacher said all of his teammates were dead on their test are they dead now?

Can she even call him her teacher? Who does she have to rely upon? 

Her teammates are babies, her teacher is a teenager - what’s the point of doing _anything?_ Her teammates are babies - tiny, defenceless babies - they can’t. They don’t even have a personality other than screaming and crying and eating and - 

Sakura muffles a scream into her knees. _A genjutsu_ , she desperately thinks. _It has to be a genjutsu, a powerful one at that._ No one can go back in time - it’s, there’s nothing in time travel - the only time and space ninjutsu she vaguely knows about is the _Flying Thunder-God Technique._

If she tries to disrupt her chakra flow - but she’s already aware, genjutsu’s don’t work when you’re _this_ aware. 

If she tries and physically wakes herself up - pain? But if it doesn’t? And her body has been aching since she’s arrived, what is she meant to do- 

Sakura chokes on a breath, sob caught in between and desperately breathes in smoothly. 

The strange ache in her pelvis thuds a sudden warning, an intense pull against her bone almost making her fall over. Sakura pushes a hand against her navel, trying to push away the sudden pain when she feels her chakra shivering against it. It’s chaotic in a way that Sakura’s has never been, her pride in her neat control over her chakra suddenly laying waste to this twisting and churning of her _chakra._ It thuds and thuds and Sakura keels over, her sweaty forehead touching the coarse dirt. The sudden shivers and her sweaty skin is - concerning and she clenches her eyes closed again as it rhythmically thuds, more and more painful the next time. 

A push of coarse, paper-thin chakra - _like Orochimaru._ Sakura freezes, jerking her head up and away from the ground. Her cheek scratches against the dirt and she feels it clinging to her sweat-soaked skin. _Orochimaru_ , Sakura tries to look around. _He’s here - I can feel him._ His chakra is somehow never what Sakura expects it to be. The idea of a snake, something horrifying reptilian and it carefully, knowingly crushing you underneath weight of - something. Sakura pushes her arms up, elbows locking into place and -

As soon as she feels it brush up against her, it disappears and she trembles desperately at the lingering touch of chakra. 

It might’ve been a warning - a reminder of something to come. Sakura pushes her knuckles against her temple and tries to ignore the whisper of - a genjutsu should have, should _have_ been disrupted by the pure churning feeling of her chakra. It’s disordered and she felt so clearly Orochimaru’s chakra. But - it has to be a genjutsu. Time travel - is not. Cannot be real or true and Sakura will not be in the past by herself -

A twig snaps. 

Sakura startles and looks up.

A recognisable, young Maito Gai pauses - an exaggerated pose held still, a knee raised as he acts out creeping over to her. They stare at each other, Sakura somehow unable to compute the silence of his footsteps with his strange vernacular, a loud and proud call of his personal nindo which strangely contrasts against the intense focus his chakra has. A focus on _her,_ she realises slowly and feels the tears once more crawl up her throat as she starts blubbering at the sight of her teacher’s ‘Eternal Rival’.

“My youthful companion, I have heard the cries of your grief and come to the call of your suffering!” Gai’s booming voice as a teenager is just as loud as him as an adult. “Why, do you cry, my comrade?”

Sakura thinks of the way Kakashi-sensei acted around Gai, lazy and at ease, and her teacher - so melodramatic and nice to her and her teacher and -

She feels her face crumple and the loud, hiccuping sobs start up again. 

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow! i cant remember if i edited this at all past the initial ones. my computer is like, dying and i just wrote the rest of this chapter on my phone lol. well, it feels right? it feels right. also ohmygod thank you everyone for the warm comments, gah my life has been made. i’m boutta go back and reply but uhhhshhsggg they’re so nice. comments make me feral man. 
> 
> anyway-! ta dah! sakura once more suffers but this time. intensely. and the intruder plot she thought was happening - was not actually happening lol. man she, has a lot of catching up to do. also u know how itachi always thinks naruto is like shisui. look at how the tables turn, sakura thinks shisui is like naruto. god i love putting in those parallels in stories. wittle shisui is terrifying but at his and naruto’s core they’re v idealistic and positive. 
> 
> also hi gai... one of my loved characters. look at him, so kind, so strong. uhhjhdhhg gai-sakura friendship NOW. B FRIENDS. 
> 
> also would like 2 say briefly, i write i think? stream of conscious like so. i apologise if it’s confusing but pls ask if you need clarification. i try my best but i write weird sometimes hbbdbbdhd 
> 
> also hello! i’ve written the plot, i have an idea of everything that’s going on!! it’s a larger story than i thought! it’s split in three big story arcs/parts which i’ll briefly spoil by their titles - part 1: the beginning, part 2: mission trip and part 3: the fall out. THATS BARELY A SPOILER IM SORRY L FB DNBSJHD. 
> 
> hope every1 is good and safe in these times! i had the best goddamn breakfast a while again god i love turkish bread and eggplants an egg. ugh!!!


End file.
